


in a era of eras

by spacebeby



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Comfort/Angst, F/F, Heavy Angst, M/M, Poetic Sex, Song: Shukufuku no Messiah to Ai no Tou | Blessed Messiah and the Tower of AI, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, What Have I Done, You Have Been Warned, have fun, i almost cried while writing this so take that as you will, listen it wont make sense until it does, no happy ending sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 22:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20104300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacebeby/pseuds/spacebeby
Summary: "Trusting that in sickness and health,No matter what happens,Or for whatever may come;We will face all our fortune and pain as one!"





	in a era of eras

All of the buildings beside them were torn down and dilapidated and the dead crops scattered their walkways. The unfavorable smell of dead corpses which were still in the process of fully decomposing immediately reached their noses, making them have the urge to vomit. The abandoned village was a complete disaster. Before the group of ten could get lost in their surroundings, however, a voice pulled them out of their thoughts and grounded them.

“You must be wondering where you are, yes? You’re at Hogsmeade, which is supposed to be, well, a village, that much you can be sure of, but clearly, it’s at the brink of its demise.” He waited patiently for everyone to make their comments about his words before continuing. “I’ve come here to this kingdom, bearing the words of the Prophecy; but before I go too much into that, are any of you aware of the Tower of Ai, perhaps?”

The uproar was deafening.

The Weasleys (Percy, Fred and George, Ron, and Ginny) and Hermione started talking over each other and Neville, Luna, and draco spoke in hushed whispers, leaving only Harry clueles

The so-called messenger chuckled darkly which caused Harry to get chills up and down his spine. Clearly Draco felt them from where he was beside him, soothingly rubbing his back before his hand resting just above Harry’s shoulder. His pale hand squeezed gently, and anyone who knew would have known that it’s just as much of a comforting gesture as a protective gesture.

“Well, I see that your friends know what it is. This meeting shall be brief; Harry James Potter will be the new Chosen One. Now go forth and save the world from its punishments and give it mercy.” Then, he suddenly vanished into thin air.

“What? What is that supposed to mean? How am I supposed to save the world if I don’t know how? Is this some kind of sick joke?” Just as Harry said those words, a torch fell into his hands. “What the bloody hell am I supposed to do with this?” His shoulders shook with tension, his hold on the blasted torch tightening as the seconds passed; that is, before the hand on his shoulder tightened and another placed itself softly on top of his own tan one.

“You’re not alone, Harry. You have all of us. We’re always here for you.” Draco immediately said, leaning down just a bit to press a soft and gentle kiss against his temple before he engulfed him in a hug. “You can do it, Harry. I believe you.” His whispered words were lost in the wind, but they weren’t lost to Harry, who needed them the most.

Then, everyone else wrapped their arms around the two, forming a large group hug.

Once everyone backed away, Draco said, “Let’s go and find the blessings.”

Then, they walked towards the Tower of Ai, leaving behind Hogwarts and Hogsmeade.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The group had stopped for rest, and once Harry was asleep, everyone who had pretended to sleep were brought together by Percy. He had cleared up any confusion and made a plan.

The blessings for the Chosen One, or rather, the means of atonement which was required for the Chosen One to take, were nothing but curses hidden under the veil of purity.

And so, they wordlessly agreed one by one with the new moon that can’t be seen in the dead of night as their only witness.

Even though no one had objected to the agreement, the silence spoke for itself.

They would allow Harry James Potter to safely pass through the Tower of Ai, even if it meant losing their lives in the process.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

When all was said and done, they silently nodded to each other, the unspoken  _ We will face all of our fortune and pain as one _ was received. And, with only the light of the full moon to watch them, they pushed the huge doors. The group was immediately greeted in an eerie aura, but that feeling was washed away by a deep blue light. It soared high above them and resembled the waves of the sea, as if gesturing the group to sink deeper into the Tower.

“That must be the ‘Blossoming Wave of the Sea.” Percival Ignatius Weasley said, his voice didn’t crack or break, like he was calm, cool and collected, but anyone who bothered to look past that persona would know that he wasn’t so calm and collected. Even though he’s the oldest brother of his brothers that are present now with him, a part of him still felt scared.

Harry’s grip on the torch tightened and he walked towards the door. There was some sort of dais, the same orb of light shining in the very centre. The Chosen One felt drawn to it, like it was beckoning him to let the light wash over him and drown in it’s captivating light. His arm was outstretched to grab it but a pale hand overlapped his tan one. He followed it and looked into the eyes of Percy, a look of confusion.

“What are you doing?” was what Harry was trying to say, but his words got cut off when the redhead pushed him back and the doors closed.

The last thing his emerald green eyes saw was Percy claiming the blessing as his. If he looked closer, he would have noticed that there was a flicker of pain and hurt deep within the oldest brother’s dark brown eyes.

The last thing he would have heard from those pale lips were, “I’m so sorry.” if it weren’t for the sound of waves crashing against the walls and engulfing his words.

In a flash, Harry ran to the wall and began helplessly hitting it with his fists. “Percy! Please open up!” His voice reverberated inside the ancient tower, but no one heeded his call.

“Let’s go.” 

“Harry, stop it.”

The Chosen one felt two hands on either side of his shoulder; Fred and George Weasley, (he wonders how they feel. He didn’t know that Percy had taken the blessing so he wouldn’t have to deal with the curse. All he knew was that Percy had taken it for himself and that was supposed to be his job, dammit. He was the Chosen One, after all.) and helping him up-

Harry Potter doesn’t remember when exactly he had fallen onto the cold hard ground, but that doesn’t matter. Percival Ignatius Weasley had stolen the first blessing for himself.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

After Harry was able to compose himself with a few soothing words from Draco and comforting shoulder rubs from Ron and hand rubs from Hermione, the group continued their journey to the second chamber. Everyone seemed shocked to various degrees, but Harry took the blunt of the blow. Even if the Weasley siblings didn’t take it well, but for some reason it hit Harry harder than it had hit them. The Weasley’s lost a sibling and Harry had lost a friend. Later he would realize what had just happened not even an hour ago when he reached the altar. For now, though, he let himself dwell in his sorrow.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

As each and every one of them saw Percy take the first blessing, they didn’t realize why they had to do what they had to do until then. They knew, when they saw the short glimpse of pain flash across the redhead’s face as the ancient doors shut him inside, they knew then that the so-called blessings weren’t blessing at all.

They were curses. Nine individual tragedies, meant for one person and one person alone.

How unfair.

Each one of them had to disappear. Forever.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

  
  


Once they had reached the second floor, there was a light similar to the blessing that Percy had taken, but this time it was in a bright orange color which had the next blessing’s symbol. Harry went towards the open doors, just about to cross the threshold before he was pulled back, only able to watch Fred- no,  _ Ginevra Molly Weasley _ , push Fred aside to wordlessly claim the ‘Fiery Feast’ as hers. _ _

“Ginny!” Harry’s shout echoed against the stone walls, though they were silenced as the walls started themselves once more, taking away yet another Weasley sibling from the rest and Harry’s precious friend. He struggled again’s Ron’s hold, his hand desperately reaching out as the seemingly innocent light glistened and expanded.

Just before the walls finally connected, Ginny’s scream was loud and clear, as if she had been standing with the group when she screamed.

“Harry, stop it!” Hermione intervened, getting a hold of the shaking young man. Why they were chosen to suffer from such things that mere fifteen year olds should not be suffering from is beyond her. All their school years should be revolved around schoolwork like assignments and exams, not the deaths of their dearest friends.

It crushed each and every one of their hearts to see their friend so… distressed and distraught. Especially when they are the cause of it and they can’t do anything about it, forced to do God’s bidding and comply to his puppetting strings. For what? The rest of humanity? That burden should not be placed on these children, no matter how old they are.

Harry’s emerald green eyes were blazing, just like the cursed fire that had taken Ginny away from all of them, away from him. His glare at the wall continued to burn just like how the torch that was in his tight grip would. The sound of fire crackling was still ringing his ears as he gritted his teeth and walked up the stairs.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Throughout the journey to the tower and within the tower, everyone had put up forced smiles, setting their masks into place in attempts to appease the Chosen One.

None of them could genuinely be happy, not when their friends were fated to die in such an unfair way.

Once someone were to be chosen as the Chosen One, their destiny had been set in motion.

Nothing could change that, ever.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The chosen one stopped as soon as he was greeted by a yellow colored light which had the symbol of the sun in the centre. That much was proof that it was the ‘Graceful Sunlight’.

Before he could make a move, however, George’s voice broke him out of his musings. “Hesitation will cost you your life, Harry.” No one noticed the redhead holding Fred’s hand for a brief moment before the latter was already in the chamber, reaching out to claim the third blessing.

When he looked back at the group, his brown eyes were deprived of light despite the bright orb his pale hands were about to touch.

“Or the lives of other people.”

His words were uncharastically cold and devoid of it’s usual warmth.

There was a moment of silence, of stillness, and it was too late.

Too late for Ron to try and save his older brother. It was too late for George to try and save Fred, his twin, his other half.

It was too late to save Fred Weasley because he had claimed the third blessing.

Hermione’s yell made them turn around- George was running up the stairs, taking two steps at a time in irritation. The now smaller group quickly followed him, hoping that they would make it in time.

But, it was too late.

It was too late because George was enveloped in an enchanting but deadly purple shade of light and the walls had closed shut, locking him in there.

The ‘Restful Darkness’ was taken by George Weasley, or was the other away around more appropriate? Well, Harry would find that the harsh and cruel way when he reaches the altar, high in the clouds.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Everyone saw how the toll of each and every one of their previous betrayals had impacted the Chosen One. 

He looked like he was on the edge of tears, about to burst at the seams, but they all knew how strong he is. They also knew just how long he had been. But, after everything is said and done, he would break. Even though they wished that it was someone else who was chosen, just not Harry or their friends, as selfish as that may seem.

They have seen death for far too long and way to many times. How many deaths can Harry take? Even if they might not be there to see Harry save the world, they’ll be there for him in spirit to motivate and encourage him forwards. After all, they share their fortune and pain as one.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Harry’s gaze was still blazing, if not even brighter. His eyes were the color of molten emeralds; liquid anguish. His eyebrows were furrowed and his voice didn’t waver as he planted his slightly petite frame, feet splayed with his hands on either side of him. “I won’t let you guys take any more of the blessings! You guys’ don’t have to suffer.”

In response, Neville’s voice echoed as he stepped forwards. “We have a choice, Harry.”

“Please, Neville.. Not you too.” Disbelief resounded against the walls. Harry wouldn’t let his voice water, not now, not ever, even if he feels like breaking down right then and there.

“You didn’t think we would just stand around and let you take these blessings, did you?” the brunet murmured, his tone dropping a few octaves so only he would be able to hear. “We’re in this together, remember?”

And with that, Neville brushed past him, entering the earthy chambers, reaching for the pendant embossed blessing within.

Rather than looking at Harry when he turned around, his gaze rested on Luna instead. Her rose-colored cheeks were a pale white, contrasting her dirty blonde hair beautifully. Her eyes were not their usual pale silvery color he knew so well. Instead, they were a stormy gray, haunted.

Once Neville claimed the ‘Trembling Earth’ for himself, the doors closed shut as the stone floors beneath Neville Longbottom cracked bit by bit before swallowing him.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The last remaining members of the group- Luna, Hermione, Ron, Draco, and Harry were silent as can be. Not a single grin, not a single hint of happiness. It was like any happiness and joy they may have had were sucked forcefully out of their souls ever since they had stepped foot into the Tower of Ai like there were dementors lurking at every corner. 

But really, how could they even smile when their precious friends were sacrificing themselves?

None of them wanted this fate, this cruel fate. Not a single one of them wanted to be the reason Harry’s eyes slowly started to lose its brilliant light behind his eyes.

But, in the end, even though it feels like they had chosen to go through this with sheer will so Harry didn’t have to suffer alone, he would suffer alone nonetheless.

A chosen family, tainted with vile deaths.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The next chamber was crackling with electricity and the orb that was on the dais was gleaming a white gold color and the emblem was a zigzagged mockery of lightning and it was scarily similar to the one on Harry’s forehead.

He felt pulled towards it, like it was just beckoning him to cross the threshold and take the blessing, his friends be damned. But before he could touch the orb, however, a lilting voice pulled him out of his revere and grounded him.

“Harry, we will always share joy and pain. No matter what.”

Luna softly brushed past him, her touch light as a feather. Even as she crossed the threshold and into the room, she was graceful and elegant as ever. Even as she turned around to say her last words, her voice was still soft and dreamlike. The only thing that was different was that her eyes were a story gray and threatened to gloss over with tears.

“We love you, Harry. It’s not your fault. We chose to do this.”

And with that, her pale hand touched the ‘Ambient Thunder’ and the slam of the stone doors echoed in each and every one of their ears. From inside the chambers came a bone-chilling sound of anguish.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

They watched as one by one, they sealed themselves within chambers with the so-called blessings. Every single one of them left with calm and collected expressions, as if they had actually wanted to do this, as if they really wanted to be the ones to break Harry.

But in the end, they knew they didn’t want this.

They loved each other, so, so much- and yet, here they were, claiming the blessings for themselves. And because they loved each other, they continued to drag their feet, continued to push themselves to keep going, to keep taking the blessings for themselves as their hearts shattered.

That was the plan; to take the blessings so Harry wouldn’t have to be cursed over and over and to die again and again in various gruesome ways, just to be revived once more.

They tried to placate themselves by telling themselves that  _ this was for Harry, to save him _ .

As reasonable as that sounds, they were really breaking him in their own ways, slowly chipping away at him.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Ron pressed on, determined that he would go next, no matter what the final people left behind would say or do.

Hermione stared back at him, his brown eyes devoid of life as they glossed over from her unshed tears. The silent  _ do you really have to go _ was not lost between them. Draco’s pink lips were set in a grim line, and he didn’t say a word. Instead, he decided to rest a pale arm around Harry’s waist as his equally pale hand rubbed soothing circles on his hip.

The blazing fire behind his eyes were gone as if they were snuffed out. Any ounce of resistance had been sapped away as he watched his friends walk into the chambers one by one. His forest green eyes were lifeless and dull. He didn’t know how to react anymore. He didn’t offer any more words; his voice was strained hoarse from screaming at them, pleading them not to go. His hands were clenched white into Draco’s sweater and his tan skin now pale.

Then, Hermione pushed Ron out of the way, her palm flat against his chest. Her heart ached and stung. She didn’t want to see his reaction. She couldn’t. If she did, her resolve would shatter just like Harry’s soul. The brunette was determined to stride into the blueish-green glow with her head down.

“Hermione! Stop!”

Her body froze just as her hand was about to touch the blessing. It stung, like she was ripping his heart out of her own chest mercilessly. She didn’t want to face him, but the harsh truth burnt her like acid. She spun around, her bushy brown hair splaying around her as she did so.

“Please, ‘Mione!” His voice tore through her, grasping her resolve in a vice-like grip, ripping her willpower.

Then, she couldn’t hold back the tears. They threatened to escape her tear ducts as she forced herself not to cry. Not in front of Ron. Not in front of Draco. Not in front of Harry.

Only when Hermione Jean Granger touched the ‘Whirlwind of Rondo’ as she faced her lover, silencing his cries with a single glace, only when the walls clattered to a close, sealing her inside forever, did she finally let her tears fall onto the ground as she allowed herself to be swept away.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The walk to the best blessing was silent, the gravity of everything that’s happened was in the process of sinking in deeper in Harry’s bones. He felt hurt and betrayed, rightfully so.

His friends, every single one of them, were going to sacrifice themselves for him, it seemed. That doesn’t mean he has to like it, though.

The echoing slam of the door closing brought Ron more pain than he could bear, slicing him open like he was just a mere piece of paper. 

Here he is, alone with Draco and Harry.

Seven of them, dead.

Three of his brothers, one of his only sister.

One of them, his very own lover.

He wanted to mourn his loss, to grieve for her death to the cursed atonement.

When Ronald Bilius Weasley walk towards the next blessing, towards the icy breeze emanating from the light blue orb inside, Harry was silent.

When he touched the ‘Silver Garden’ and the walls closed themselves shut, upon seeing a flash of pain of the redhead’s face and the small glimmer of a tear as it froze against his pale cheeks, Harry felt something deep inside of him break once more.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Then, it was just the two of them.

Draco Lucius Malfoy and Harry James Potter.

Harry James Potter and Draco Lucius Malfoy.

Their hearts had been swept away with so many emotional tied that say, and they were exhausted. Unbearably exhausted. They just wanted to be in each others arms, just for the night. They wanted to be one, in all of the ways possible

And so, that’s what they did.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Draco was just like any roque planet, lost without a source of light. He hides fire, a burning, molten passion beneath a frigid exterior. But that’s only natural, after all, he was only seen by those who wished to see him (that was ingrained in him from a fragile young age by his pureblood family), so he flitted from galaxy to galaxy, aiming to find a purpose outside his life. It only takes warmth and light for that passion was fueled by his neglected enthusiasm and excitement.

Harry is a meteor, all bold and courageous as he spits vindictive green flames and exploding in anger against the injustice and prejudice. Draco is like a comet, cold as Neptune, hardening his heart with ambition; they were doomed from the very start. Nonetheless, Harry burns and Draco melts against him.

When Harry dips down to press their mouths together, Draco’s response is eager. Lips part and the kiss deepens as Harry brings their hips together, further fueling desire unlike anything he’s ever experienced takes over.

Even though Draco’s pale skin and harsh gaze was like the Morningstar’s abode, his touches and gaze were like molten Mercury. Some of his kisses are chaste, soft and sweet, while others were anything but that. Others were all explosive as their hands clasp and fingers intwine, creating supernovas.

All too soon, each touch becomes more passionate, more  _ desperate _ . Then, they  _ fall, fall, fall. _

They’d been drawn together like stardust compacting and collided harder than nebulae with the touch of a tan hand down a pale, firm stomach. Harry’s tan hands on his pale skin leaves burning heat of fusion in their wake and his mouth is sweeter than anything he had ever known. All slick heat, taut flesh, and smooth skin.

Harry takes and takes and takes with each thrust and it’s so slick and hot and  _ good, good, good. _

Draco collides and collides and collides his hips against Harry and he’s always wondered what it felt like to feel the heat of a supernova, to experience of a star bursting into life.

Draco is rendered breathless as Harry finds his inner core, melting away at his walls. He trembles and shakes, cries and sobs out for Harry to never stop, and Harry obeys. There’s a rhythm to their dance; a push-pull, a thrust-roll. When he hits just the right spot, he sees the bright white flash of a supernova behind his eyelids. Each slip and slide of Harry’s hips was enough to ignite something as large as the Big Bang within Draco, and nothing was the same ever again.

They’re falling stars, shining across the night sky. Draco has found his purpose and will clasp onto it. Always.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

In the dead of night Harry didn’t feel the pale limbs untangling themselves from his own tan ones. He didn’t feel the gentle brush of lips against his temples. He didn’t hear the sound of barely controlled sobbing. He didn’t hear the rustle of clothing being placed onto another and his body. He didn’t taste the salty tears that fell down from ghostly pale cheeks onto his own, which fell down, down, down into the cracks of his closed lips. He didn’t see shaky arms wrap around a trembling body as it cross the threshold to claim the very last blessing, the ‘Quickening Magma’. He didn’t see the ancient doors shut closed, sealing a blond inside. He didn’t smell clean hot rocks touching pale skin from within the chambers. He didn’t smell sulfur gases mix with the disintegrating flesh, making it impossible to identify the body.

When the Chosen One woke up, the smell of magma and melting flesh was long gone and the walls were cold to the touch and stayed shut.

  
  


‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Harry broke.

His grip on the unlit torch was unsteady and weak. Tears poured down his now haggard cheeks. The journey really did a number on him, both physically and mentally. His soul was mercilessly torn apart and relentlessly separated into nine sharp pieces.

As he stands before the final staircase on quivering legs, he can’t bear the thought of transversing those stone cold steps alone.

Not when he knows fully well that the nine others who are supposed to be by his side are no longer there.

He doesn’t realize that everyone died for him, everyone he loved died for him to live. He doesn’t realize it’s the last time. It’s he would see Percy scowl after another prank made by Fred and George. It’s the last time he would hear Fred laugh and the last time he would hear George finish finish Fred’s sentences. It’s the last time he would see Neville’s eyes light up as he rambles on about plants. It’s the last time he would hear Luna talk about nargles and wrackspurts. It’s the last time he would see Ginny play quidditch. It’s the last time he would feel Ron ruffling his hair and the last time he would hear Hermione fret over him. It’s the last time he would be able to hear Draco say ‘I love you’ and the last time he would be able to touch him. It’s the last fucking time and he doesn’t realize it.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

He can’t feel anything anymore. He’s numb to everything. To the pain, to the cold wind pushing and pulling at him, threatening to sweep him away. He can’t hear the harsh whispers of the wind. All he could hear were the screams and cries of his friends and the loud slam of the chamber doors, sealing them away from each other. His eyes are red and puffy but he can’t bring himself to continue crying because he  _ can’t _ .

His once bright emerald green eyes are now dull and lifeless like all of the light had been drained from him. Now really, that’s not really far from the truth. His friends had been like a light in the darkness, always there for him. Until suddenly, they weren’t.

Letting out a deep exhale, pushing the thoughts of  _ them _ from the front of his mind for just a while, he pushes onwards, trying to ignore the darkness clouding his heart.

When he reaches the top of the stairs, his stomach drops to his feet.

There’s nine statues holding blood-red candles surrounding a dais that stands in the tower’s core.

Then, suddenly and out of nowhere, horrible sights and sounds floods into his senses, rendering him immobile. It hurts, hurts, hurts, and just when he thinks it can’t get any worse, it does just that.

The screams of his friends, his  _ family _ echoes in the front of his mind and a slideshow that felt like an eternity to him flashes behind his eyelids, making him choke. They’re suffering; all of them enduring absolute agony.

Each one flickers like a candle about to be snuffed out; Percival Ignatius Weasley drowning underneath ocean waves. Ginevra Molly Weasley being burned alive inside unforgiving flames. Fred Weasley gasping for air and grasping his throat as he disintegrated into dust. George Weasley pulling out his hair as he went mad in the darkness. Neville Longbottom being crushed underneath the world’s crust. Luna Lovegood, being hit with relentless strikes of burning lightning. Hermione Jean Granger being ripped into shreds in a ceaseless cyclone. Ronald Bilius Weasley freezing to death in a garden of silver flowers. Draco Lucius Malfoy melting away as he was encased in molten lava.

Each of the candles began to light, collecting the poor unfortunate souls.

Then, as realization finally dawns on him, his blood runs cold.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

_ It’s so unfair _ , he thought. After all,  _ he _ was the Chosen One,  _ him, Harry James Potter _ . Not Percival Ignatius Weasley. Not Ginevra Molly Weasley. Not Fred Weasley. Not George Weasley. Not Neville Longbottom. Not Luna Lovegood. Not Hermione Jean Granger. Not Ronald Bilius Weasley. Not Draco Lucius Malfoy. So why,  _ why _ were they sacrificing themselves for him?

Deep down he knew that it’s because they love him.

But that doesn’t mean it hurt him any less.

He wanted to cry until he had no tears left to cry and scream until he can’t scream anymore.

And so, that’s what he did.

Tears flowed freely, the hot, sorrowful tears rolling down his skin to drop to the stone below. His shoulders tremble and shake uncontrollably as wracking sobs leave him to quiver on the cold hard ground. The screams are torn from his chest, leaving his throat.

When he suddenly heard voices, he dares to look through his glasses which are covered tears, forcing his vision to focus. Once he cleaned them, he stared in disbelief.

Standing right before his very eyes, were his precious friends together. They were glowing with a light that made them seem both real and not. They all share the same wistful and sad smiles as they stared down at where he was on the floor.

“What are you waiting for?” Luna’s voice was soft and airy, just as dreamlike as ever.

Harry shakes his head, frowning as he did so. “I-I’m so sorry!” He forced himself to continue through his sobs which have now turned to hiccups. “I can’t! N-Not without you-”

He went silent, staring with owlishly wide eyes when Draco offers his hand to him. The action is eerily similar to when they had first met in Hogwarts, when Draco had offered his hand for friendship.

“We’ll always be with you, love,” he tells her. “Just like we promised. We will always share your joy, including your pain.”

Harry clings to his words and his hand raises as he dares to touch his-

But before contact could be made, he fades.

He choked on yet another sob as he watched his friends, his family, become transparent, non-corporeal, and then disappear.

The Chosen One pushes himself up, his weak body pushed by the wind, threatening to make him fall down, down, down, against the waiting ground below. He took a deep breath and takes another step forward, and then another.

When his torch was lit, he threw himself into its warmth. He laughed into the stifling air, throwing his head back with the motion as if he had gone mad. He closes his eyes, his forest green eyes shut behind tan eyelids. He could just see his friends, grinning and urging him to join them.

He allows himself to go towards them, a wicked grin making itself bleed across his face and allows them to embrace him. His world went black, just like his tainted heart.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☆ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙


End file.
